This used to be a space that I found so fulfilling, where I was always painstakingly open with my feelings.
Life got in the way.
I blamed my inability to write here or in any space really (beyond poems and scribblings in my notes app) on the changes happening in my ‘real’ life. “Grown up things” were happening, so what did my silly little blog matter? I debated contacting other websites about producing music reviews or coming back on here to share, but my self-sabotaging inner voice just whined on: “if you were that bothered, surely you’d keep a diary or journal” or “if you were really a writer you would never have stopped”.
Instead of sharing my passions and observations, I’ve been drowning in to-do lists. Not the ambitious kind either *checks off washing my hair* they really are that bland.
Still, whatever is left of the writer in me has been itching to come back.
Turns out I’m tethered to the act of oversharing.
I find myself less interested in posting on Instagram; I don’t really share anything personal on there anymore, and who really needs to see another photo of me pouting (although I’ll likely keep posting them and I’ve even gone as far to post one as the featured image on this post – sorry). I’ve been yearning for something more long-form, then I remembered this space exists!
Between the layers of monotony and routine, there’s magic.
The human experience is inherently homogenous, but at times can feel unique and isolating. That’s why sharing is so important; we are all so much more similar than we are different.
Basically, I want to write again and this seems like a natural place go start.